Lights Will Guide You Home
by moviegeek03
Summary: With Lisa and Ben away, and a giant blizzard, Dean can't keep his mind off of Sam being in hell...until an unexpected visitor lands on his ice covered porch in dire straights.  Season 6 AU.  Hurt!Sam, Caring!Dean, Evil!Samuel...NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This was written for the OhSam fic challenge on Livejournal. The prompt was from Embroiderama who wanted a season 6 AU where Sam is hurt hunting with the Campbells and shows up on Dean's doorstep. This is what I came up with….Enjoy! I could really use some lovely comments :D

Chapter 1

The snow continued to cascade down, and Christmas lights shined through the pristine white mounds around the house, even though the holidays were officially over. All in all, the entire scene that lay outside the frost covered windows was picturesque. Yet the house's sole occupant only stared blankly out the window, barely taking much notice of the beauty around him.

Because when your only brother was being ripped apart in hell and your girlfriend takes your surrogate son to go visit her mother half way across the country….things like a beautiful snowfall really don't register. Which was why Dean was currently sitting alone at their home in Cicero. Of course Lisa had invited him to travel to her mother's the day after Christmas. But Mrs. Braeden happened to live in a little town in upstate New York. Lisa had opted to fly instead of taking all the time to driver there, and, well, Dean just didn't do flying. Therefore Dean had chosen to stay behind and allow Lisa and Ben to enjoy their time with her mother. If nothing else, the former hunter figured he would just spend the few days they were gone working a few odd jobs around town with the construction crew. After all, Lisa and Ben only planned on staying out of town for a little over a week…Dean could easily handle spending a week alone…

However, the blizzard of the decade decided to completely wreck all his plans and make that so called easy week a living hell. The snow had started falling gently the day after Dean drove Lisa and Ben to the airport; it continued to escalade into what was now a couple feet of snowdrifts throughout the town. New York wasn't much better; all flights had been cancelled, forcing Lisa and Ben to stay at her mother's longer than originally planned.

So this left Dean home alone staring blankly out the frost covered window while brutal images of his brother in hell plagued his thoughts. It was like a movie projector was running in his brain 24/7. Sometimes it was images from his own time spent in hell. But most of the time his damn imagination was on overload thanks to being alone and cooped up in the house far too long.

The coffee maker chimed from the kitchen, finally dragging Dean's mind away from all the fire and brimstone. He pushed himself off the couch and headed towards the counter to pour some coffee. The steam roared our from the pot, bringing about new images of smoke and fire and hell…._Does anything not remind me of hell these days?_

Dean had been getting better. He knew there would never come a day when he would completely recover from seeing Sam jump straight into the cage. But he had at least recovered enough to not spend all his time with a bottle of Jack and his memories from his own trip down below. That had been before the holidays had hit, sending Lisa and Ben away from him to New York the day after Christmas and a freaking blizzard to him the day after that.

He poured the coffee into a mug and moved back towards the living room to plop down onto the soft couch. The glow of the Christmas lights bathed a comfortable light across the room. A sad smile graced Dean's face as he realized this was one of the first Christmases he had experienced with all these decorations and traditions since his mom died. _Sam would've liked this…_

Dean was brought out of his thoughts once again, but this time with a loud crashing sound at the front door. "What the hell…"

The sound definitely wasn't the sound of someone simply knocking by any means. It almost seemed like someone or something was trying to knock down the heavy wooden door. Dean silently slipped off of the couch and headed towards the coat rack near the door. His hand glided against his smooth leather jacket, sliding into the inside pocket. He reached for the Colt hidden there before swiftly moving to the front door. He stole a quick glance out the curtained window. The snow continued to fall in thick flakes.

_Who the hell would be out in this freaking weather? Come on…._

Dean steeled himself for whatever could lie on the other side. His left hand rose to the doorknob while his right raised the gun. He flung open the heavy door and aimed the weapon…only there wasn't anything to aim at.

Dean's gaze and aim faltered. "What in the hell is going on?"

A soft moan replied to Dean's loud outburst of frustration. Taken aback, Dean quickly pulled the gun back up and he glanced around. He almost took a step out onto the porch when the moaning returned. This time Dean noticed a figure sprawled across the snow covered porch steps.

Keeping the gun pointed towards the lump, Dean reached inside to turn on the front porch light. The soft glow of the bulb casted an eerie light across the image in front of the hunter. A sleek, black, newer looking car was parked haphazardly near the mailbox…or at least where the mailbox used to be. It appeared as if the car had plowed straight into it. Granted with the ice and snow piled everywhere, Dean was amazed the car hadn't ended up plowing straight into the house.

More moans came from the thing on the porch, drawing Dean's attention back to it. Blood marred the pristine snow near the figure. No footprints could be seen on the sidewalk; the new fallen snow must have already covered them up. _Or this creature may not have left any…_

Dean sighed to himself. On one hand it seemed obvious that the thing in front of him was very injured and in need of his help. But on the other, Dean knew the things that go bump in the night could easily try and trick a hunter into thinking just that. Knowing there wasn't any way around it, Dean reached down and rolled the thing over so he could get a better look.

The thing moved onto its back, and Dean's hands flew away from the body as if they had been burned.

"Sammy…"


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank to everyone who took the time to read and put this on their alerts! Special thanks to kirallie, maxandkiz, and Cainchan for leaving me some reviews! This story is actually finished, so I should be able to post a chapter every few days or so. :D

Chapter 2

_"Sammy…"_

A million thoughts flooded Dean's mind. His head and his heart both competing to draw a conclusion from the scene in front of him. His heart desperately wanted to believe that his baby brother had someone found a route out of hell and was really lying on his front porch. But his head kept butting in with the idea that this couldn't possibly be Sam. It had to be some demonic bastard wearing Sammy's skin around to torment Dean…That's all it could be…

Dean gulped down his emotions so that he could better assess the situation. One way or the other, Dean was going to have to decide if this was really Sam or something else, and there was honestly only one way he was going to find out for sure. Running a hand through his cropped hair, Dean slid back inside to grab his leather jacket, which concealed a silver blade and a flask of holy water. He almost slid on the ice on his way back to the figure that he hoped truly was his brother. Dean knelt down onto the porch, not even noticing the frosty snow soaking through his jean clad knees.

Taking in the blood that was soaking through the clothes, Dean hated to add even more damage if this really was his brother. However, he was left with absolutely no choice. He pushed the sleeves of the shirts and jacket up; Dean cursed quietly at how frozen the skin underneath felt. He pulled the silver blade out from his jacket and cut across the prone figure's arm. A flinch and slight whimper was the only response. The skin didn't sizzle or smoke…nothing at all.

With a glimmer of hope, Dean unscrewed the flask and poured a good amount of holy water down on the cut. Once again, nothing happened.

Tears welled up in Dean's eyes and a huge smile spread across his face. "Oh my God…" _It really is Sammy!_

The wind picked up again, sending the freezing flakes into his face and reminding him just how much trouble his brother was in at the moment. Dean had no idea how long Sam had been exposed to the frigid conditions. He was also clueless of the extent of the injuries marring his brother's body; Dean could only see the blood soaking Sam's clothes and the snow. Dean reached down to grab Sam around the shoulders. Ice had formed around the wet patches on the fabric.

"Aww…Damn it!"

Dean hurried to pull Sam off of the cold snow of the porch. His hands slipped, causing his limp brother to nearly crash back down onto the steps. "Son of bitch," Dean cursed under his breath. He carefully hauled his brother up and over his shoulder. He stumbled a little underneath the weight, but noticed that his brother seemed lighter than he had prior to his showdown with Lucifer. Nonetheless, his brother was still solid muscle, which weighed a freaking ton on Dean's shoulders and back. The adrenaline and worry helped to lessen the bulk and allowed him to quickly carry the unconscious Sam to the leather couch in the middle of the living room.

The heat of the house was a welcoming presence for Dean, but he still shivered slightly from being outside for so long. He couldn't even begin to imagine how much Sam would still be shivering. The threat of hypothermia seemed pretty likely right now. He thankfully noted that shivers wracked Sam's frame. Shivering was good…it sucked but at least meant that he was at least a little out of the danger zone.

Dean also checked Sam's pulse, the beats slightly sluggish under his fingers. Sam's breathing appeared a bit ragged; Dean mentally noted to check for fractured ribs. Feeling that Sam would be ok for a minute, Dean ran to the bathroom to find the large first aid kit he had stashed there, along with some towels and washcloths. He stumbled back down the hall and into the living room, nearly upsetting a lamp on an end table.

"Ok buddy," Dean knelt down beside the couch, "let's see what mess you've gotten yourself into." Dean pulled off the freezing wet clothes from his brother's torso. Purple and yellowish bruises appeared from under the ruined shirt. Blood flowed down onto the soft leather of the couch. "Damn kiddo…what the hell happened to you?"

Large gashes ran across Sam's ribcage and around to his back; they almost looked like claw marks. Dean carefully prodded around the gashes and the bruises. He pushed down on his brother's ribs, feeling for the telltale signs of fractured ribs. Sam moaned and unconsciously shied away from Dean's hand.

"It's ok, Sammy. I've got ya." Dean moved his hand from Sam's fractured ribs to cup Sam's cheek, mindful of the bruise forming there. Sam turned into the touch, but did not wake. Dean smiled and said a silent prayer that his brother would stay out of it for just a little longer. The gashes didn't look deep enough to warrant stitches, but they definitely needed cleaned. And peroxide on a fresh wound hurt like bitch no matter how gentle your caretaker was.

Dean grabbed one of the towels and used it to wipe away the blood and melted snow from Sam's torso. He then slid Sam's jeans off, throwing them to the floor. Sam shivered as the air met his exposed skin, causing Dean to hurry with his assessment of his battered brother.

Sam's ankle looked bruised and swollen; the skin felt slightly warmer to the touch compared to the rest of Sam's chilly skin. The bone felt intact at least. Dean dried his brother off with the other towel and covered the lower half of his body with a fleece blanket from the back of the couch. He quickly inspected Sam's head for any bruises or knots that could indicate a concussion. Besides the large bruise on his cheek, Dean couldn't find any real signs of concussion. A quick check of Sam's pupils confirmed his initial thoughts.

Sam's shoulders and arms seemed to be undamaged as well. However, Dean quickly noticed burns and cuts around Sam's right hand and wrist. After sorting through the contents of the first aid kit, the older brother cleaned up the area, applied some burn cream and antibiotic ointment, and swiftly wrapped gauze around the hand and wrist.

Dean then moved to work on Sam's torso, which held the more serious injuries. He poured a helping amount of peroxide onto Sam's gashes, using a washcloth to prevent the blood and liquid from pooling on the couch. Sam shifted and whimpered from the pain the peroxide obviously caused.

"Shh…" Dean tried to sooth. He moved one hand to card it through Sam's damp hair. "You're ok kiddo. Just take it easy." Dean once again prayed his brother would remain unconscious while he finished cleaning and patching him up. Sam quickly settled under Dean's hand, allowing him to go back to work.

The bleeding took longer than Dean liked to stop, but it finally succumbed to his ministrations. He pulled gauze, bandages, and medical tape out from the kit to dress the ugly wounds. He then pulled out an ace bandage to bind the sprained and bruised ankle. Once he had that secured, Dean ran to the bedroom for more blankets and sweats to put on his brother. He wrangled the pants and hoodie around Sam's limp limbs before wrapping him in a cocoon of soft blankets. Dean quickly checked the heat and turned on the gas fireplace.

Knowing that the bruises around Sam's back, chest and stomach would cause a great deal of discomfort, Dean maneuvered pillows under his brother. Dean was never more thankful that Lisa had a freakishly big couch in the living room. Afterwards he managed to force feed his brother some painkillers.

Satisfied that there wasn't much else he could do for his brother other than wait and watch, Dean settled into the armchair across from the couch to do just that. His mind raced with questions as he looked up and down Sam's tall form. But at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care all that much about the answers. Right now he had a job to do…watch over his little brother.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing response from everyone! I really appreciate it! Hope you enjoy this chapter! A lot of your questions are getting answered here...Comments would be very loved :D.

Chapter 3

_Right now he had a job to do…watch over his little brother. _

Feelings slowly started to return…

He felt the slightly dulled throb run through his body. The sense of comfort soon followed. Then, the soft glow of lights across his face registered.

He still did not wake.

A feeble shiver ran through him, bringing forth a surplus of unwanted memories…Lucifer had been right. The cage burned cold, excruciatingly cold.

For a moment, Lucifer wavered in front of his eyes…Taunting him…Toying with him…Torturing him…Until his body was a ragged, shivering form desperately needing to seek relief from the pain engulfing it. He twisted and curled in on himself in search of a reprieve. He felt a shift then a blinding pain exploded through him forcing an involuntary scream to escape from between his lips.

"Sammy!"

He knew the voice…

"Sammy!"

Lucifer had been using it to bring forth a whole other level of pain…

"Damn it Sam! Wake up!"

Sam let out a gasp then tried to bolt into a sitting position. Pain shot through his ribcage once again, but this time a hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

"Dean?" he breathed out.

"The one and only," Dean smiled.

Sam sighed in relief, wincing at the movement. He glanced around him, realizing he was sprawled across the floor, blankets twisted in his long legs.

The confusion must have been evident on his face, because Dean carefully started to untangle the blankets. "You were on the couch when I left the room a minute ago. Went to put on another pot of coffee. Was about to pour it when I heard you start to moan and then a loud crash." Dean succeeded in freeing Sam's legs from the blankets and threw them back on the couch. Sam shivered from the lack of extra warmth they had offered. "Let's get you back up there."

Sam nodded, putting his hands on the floor to push himself up to the couch. But the burns on his hand made themselves known, forcing Sam to nearly fall back to the floor.

Gently hands slid underneath him, catching him on his descent. "Easy Sam. Let me do most of the work here." With Dean's help, Sam soon found himself lying out on the couch with the pile of blankets across his body. He snuggled down into the warmth and comfort, letting out a contented sigh and briefly closing his eyes.

Dean chuckled at his brother. "Better?"

"Yeah, thanks man." He opened his eyes to see Dean's amused and worried face. "Um…so…"

"Yeah…"

"Guess I owe you an explanation…"

"You think?" Dean huffed. "I mean come on Sammy, you think that finding you collapsed on my porch doesn't give me the right to want an explanation? Especially since the last I checked you were still trapped in hell!"

Sam flinched. "I know." The words came out broken. Sam looked all of the hurt little five-year-old Dean had once comforted after falling off his bicycle and hurting his leg. "I'm sorry Dean." And damn if those weren't the same words he had said all those years ago.

"So am I," Dean sighed. He moved and sat down near his brother's head. "Look, just help me out here. What the hell happened?"

"Last night or for the past couple months?"

"Both…"

"Ok, well," Sam sighed, "I, uh, don't know really anything about how I got out of hell. From what I could tell, I was only there for a couple of days, but you know how hell is…"

"Makes it seem like weeks."

"Yeah. All I know is one minute I have Lucifer and Michael coming at me again and the next I'm flat on my back in the middle of the cemetery."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Took me a while to get my bearings. Once I did, I got the hell out of there. Found an old junker abandoned in the parking lot. Managed to get it hot-wired and running. Just drove in no real direction. I needed to get away from there. Finally got my head on straight a couple of hours later. I started panicking about you, Bobby, and Cas. I remembered what I…"

"What Lucifer…"

Sam allowed a grateful and sad smile. "What Lucifer had me to do you guys. So I drove here. Saw you sitting over there, at the table with Lisa and Ben."

"Why didn't you come in? I mean, hell, Sam that was months ago. I've been thinking you were dead since May!"

"I know. But I couldn't drag you away from here." Dean started to interrupt him again. "Just hear me out. I had zero answers, and I needed them. Just like you did. And I knew you would want them with this too. I didn't want to drag you back down that path. You got out man. You deserved it for once. Bobby agreed with me."

"Bobby?" Dean stood from the couch, anger flooding through him. "You mean Bobby has known all this time that you were alive and didn't tell me?"

Sam tried to push himself up on the couch. But all he succeeded in doing was causing excruciating pain to wrack his injured body. Spots danced across his vision, and his breath was stolen from him. A few minutes must have passed. The next thing Sam was aware of was Dean's hand on his shoulder and his face inches from his.

"You back with me."

"I think so…"

"I'm sorry Sam."

"Me too." Sam blinked away the tears the pain had allowed to form. "I know I should've came to you. But I was really confused and wanted you to have a shot at normal."

"Ok…I don't like it, but I get why you did it. So why last night? Why come to me now after all these months, Sammy?

"It's kind of a long story."

Dean glanced out the window, looking at the still falling snow. "Don't think we're going anywhere anytime soon.

Sam took in the ongoing blizzard before sighing and nodding his head. "Alright, here it goes…." Sam shifted a under the blankets before settling in to tell his story.

"Went to Bobby's place, after I checked on you. I must've parked that freaking junker three blocks away from the salvage yard. I was freaking out man. Part of me was scared I'd find the place abandoned since Bobby was dead….other part of me was scared he'd be there. I ended up trying to sneak around the place. I couldn't find him, but I saw some lights on inside. Moved to the side of the house but was about to give up. I turned to go back to the car when I came face to face with the end of Bobby's rifle."

Dean barked out a laugh. "Sounds about right. Let me guess, he put you through all the standard tests?"

"Yep. Then started searching me for a handprint like yours, except I didn't have one. He really wanted me to go back to Lisa's and confront you. But I managed to get him to see it my way. He gave me a better car…"

"That thing that crashed into mailbox?"

"It isn't a thing. It's a really nice car, Dean!"

"Well, my car could kick its ass any day, bitch."

"Whatever, jerk." There was no animosity or argument really behind the words, only the hint of amusement and a smile. "Anyway, Bobby gave me that and some weapons. I started getting back into hunting. Figured I'd eventually come across something to get me on the trail of whatever got me out of hell."

"Any luck? Find anything that helped?"

"Not anything…But more like someone," Sam said. Dean flashed his brother a confused glance. "I was hunting a nest of vampires in California. I came across some hunters. I'd heard a lot about them…well one of them at least…from you."

"From me? Who?"

"Samuel," Sam gulped, "Samuel Campbell."

Dean shot off the couch. "Like as in Mom's dad?" Sam nodded. "That's not possible Sam. He died! Hell, I saw him die when Cas went all _Back to the Future_ on my ass."

"I know, man. All we could figure is that whatever brought me back brought him back too. It shocked the hell out of me to see him there. But he didn't seem that shocked by me. Was pretty weird. He gave a big hug and started talking about how I should work with him and the rest of his, well our, family."

"You weren't the even the tiniest bit suspicious of his ass?"

"I was at first. I made him go through all the normal tests, and he passed with no real hitches. So I went with him back to this compound he had set up with a few other people, well other Campbells." Confusion and hurt flashed across Dean's face. "Look man, I was missing you like hell. And they were sorta family. They weren't you…but at the time it helped….some…sort of…"

Dean sat back down and placed his hand on Sam's shoulder. "I know how that feels."

A few tears pooled in Sam's eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. "It, uh, worked for awhile at least. We did our own thing, but gave each other back up when we needed it. At least we had been. But last night…Things had started to seem weird, well weirder, not too long before Christmas. At first I thought it was just me being all depressed and annoyed. But then I started noticing more…Samuel just seemed off to me. So I started taking on more solo jobs away from the Campbells, ones that I wouldn't need back up on."

"But last night…"

Sam nodded. "I read about these odd deaths in the forest about an hour south of here. Police said it was most likely attacks caused by a wild animal. But they kept happening…kids out playing in the snow…families searching for a Christmas tree. I decided to check it out. Didn't take me long to figure out it was a Wendigo attacking people. I had the car all loaded up last night and was about to leave the motel to go take care of it, when the Campbells van pulled in beside my car. Samuel jumped out and started spitting out all this crap about how I needed to forget about this case and come with him. Wouldn't really give me a reason why. Just said that it had something to do with what brought us back."

"Why didn't you go?"

"Just didn't feel right. I mean, for months, he claimed he didn't want to check into it. He didn't want 'to screw up a good thing.' Then all of sudden he's acting like that's the only thing to do. I asked him to just give me a couple of hours to smoke the Wendigo. But he wouldn't listen. He kept yelling about how this couldn't wait. You know me, I started yelling right back at him. He finally said that he wasn't leaving until I got in the van with him. The thing he was going to meet up with apparently wasn't going to give him any information unless _I_ was there too. It didn't feel right to me…"

"Can't say I blame you there."

"Yeah. Well he grabbed at my arm to pull me towards the van. I wrenched out of his grip pretty easily, and it pissed him off. Next thing I know, he's punching me…"

"The bruise on your cheek…"

"Yeah," Sam gently traced along the bruise with his uninjured hand. "I just jumped in my car and took off down the road. He didn't follow me. I was the only car on the road."

"So you have no idea where he went?"

"No. I never made it back to the motel. I got out in the woods to find the Wendigo when I heard a bunch of voices. Some family decided the woods were the perfect place to go sledding. The Wendigo came out of nowhere. I managed to draw him away from the family, not sure if they even caught a glimpse of it. I started running through the woods; I just wanted to get it as far away from the family as possible. Didn't really even pay attention to wear I was running. My foot got caught on tree roots; the snow covered it up so I couldn't see them. I went down hard onto my ankle. The Wendigo came at me then. I couldn't put weight on my ankle yet, and flare gun in my hand malfunctioned. All it did was burn my hands. The bastard got a few hits in on me before I could get to the other flare gun in my jacket."

"How'd you manage to get here after all that?"

"Hell if I know. Guess I was running on adrenaline. I rested in the snow for a while so that I didn't put too much weight on my ankle too quickly and to make sure the thing was dead. The snow kind of helped with the swelling some. But it got too cold after a while. Took me some time to find my way back, and it hurt like hell, but I dragged myself back to the car. I don't know if I was or wasn't thinking clearly at the time...either way…I started driving here…"

"And a couple of hours later you crash into my mailbox and pass out on my porch," Dean's voice held nothing but concern and pride for his brother.

"Yeah. Couldn't see," Sam said around a yawn. "The blizzard started back up on the way here." Sam's eyes were starting to droop again. Dean was amazed that the kid had lasted this long without crashing.

"Glad you came man." Dean patted his shoulder then pulled the blankets back up to Sam's chest. "Get some more sleep kiddo."

Sam nodded and adjusted his head on the pillows. With his eyes barely open, he finally noticed the glowing colored lights of the Christmas tree. "You know Christmas was over a week ago?" The words were slurred and made Dean laugh. "Looks good though man." With that, he succumbed to the exhaustion plaguing his body.

For reasons Dean couldn't explain, tears welled up in eyes and a broad grin graced his face. He gently brushed a few errant hairs away from Sam's face. "Good to have you back kiddo."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Well this is the last chapter, and I have to say that I am honestly amazed at the response this fic has gotten! Thank you all so much! I didn't expect it at all…So let me know if I should continue this story any more. Thanks again! Comments have been/are loved :D

Chapter 4

"_Good to have you back kiddo." _

The sun reflected off the new fallen snow and streamed through the curtains. The light fell across Sam's peaceful face; he pushed his face further into the pillows to escape the bright light. The movement irritated his bruised cheek, forcing him the rest of the way awake. He groaned and moved his uninjured hand to rub at the bruise before moving it to his eyes to block the sun.

The other aches of his bruised and battered body slowly made themselves known. It took a few minutes to adjust, but Sam finally became aware of more than just the dull throb running through him. Dean's voice floated in from what Sam guess was Lisa's kitchen.

"Yeah babe. Um, still not sure on that yet. He's been working on it. I'm thinking about. Really?" Sam's brow furrowed in confusion and interest. He knew he shouldn't listen in on Dean's conversation, but he couldn't help but be curious. "Thanks babe. I'll see you soon. Yeah, love you too. Tell Ben I said hi. No, don't wake him wake. I'll see you both in a couple days. Bye…"

The sound of boots against the hardwood floor echoed into the quiet living room. Sam tried to sit up and turn to see where his brother was, but his body wasn't quite ready for that much movement. Instead, Sam ended slamming his eyes shut against the pain, whimpering, and burrowing back down into the couch cushions. When the pain eased up enough, Sam opened his eyes to Dean sitting beside him with a glass of water and painkillers in hand.

"You with me now Sammy?"

Too sore to care about the use of the nickname, Sam only nodded and gratefully accepted the pills and water. "Thanks."

"Take it you don't feel much better this morning?"

Sam sighed. "Not really."

"You feel up to food?"

"Definitely," Sam said with more energy. He honestly couldn't even remember the last time he had ate something.

"I think we still have some bacon and eggs in the fridge. Coffee is brewing right now." Dean stood up and walked back towards the kitchen to start breakfast.

"Where's Lisa?"

Dean poked his head through the doorway between the rooms. "New York. Her and Ben went up the day after Christmas to visit her mom. They got stuck with all the snow though. Should be back in a couple more days. I talked to her this morning and she said it was starting to clear up some."

"You didn't go with them?" Sam had of course been worried for months that Dean and Lisa wouldn't work out and that his staying away was a mistake.

"Hell no dude!" Dean walked back in with a mug of coffee for his brother. "They flew, and I don't do airplanes!" Dean said before going back to the kitchen.

Sam laughed around the mug of coffee from which he was sipping. "Trust me, I haven't forgotten that." The image of Dean freaked out and humming Metallica easily played across his mind.

Dean walked in with two plates full of food. He set them down on the coffee table near the couch. "Exactly!" He nudged one plate closer to Sam and started piling his own food into his mouth.

Sam pushed a few pieces of eggs around on his plate, seeming to have lost interest in the idea of eating.

"What's wrong? I'm not that bad of a cook."

"Nothing Dean. It's fine. Thanks…"

"Ok, what's going in that freaky head of yours?"

"It's just…" Sam set his fork down and glanced up at his brother. "Are you and Lisa happy?"

Dean was a little taken aback by the question. "Yeah. Why?"

"I didn't know! I mean, I told you to come here, and I wanted it to work for you!"

"It has. We've had our bad days, but overall we work pretty well together. Ben's been awesome too."

"Good." Sam knew the answer should've relieved him, but he still felt nervous and tense.

"Seriously Sam, what's wrong?"

"I shouldn't have come here." Sam started to push himself up from the couch, but he didn't pay attention to his burned and cut hand. The second he put pressure on it he immediately remembered the injuries. He flopped back on the couch with a pain filled grunt. He would've kept trying to get up however if Dean hadn't decided to climb back on the couch and gently pin his brother down.

"Sam stop!" Dean practically screamed in his face. "You need to stay put damn it! Now what the hell are you talking about?"

Sam was shaking from the pain and exertion he had put himself through. "I'm gonna screw it up for you…"

Dean looked into the tear filled puppy dog eyes of his baby brother. "Sammy…"

"You have a life here. All I'm going to do is ruin what you have going for you. I can't…"

"Sam! Listen to me kiddo." Dean lessened his grip on Sam's shoulders so that he could gently rub his brother's back to comfort him. "My life hasn't been all the great since you left. Yeah, I love Lisa and Ben. But I didn't really love my life without you. It isn't the same."

Sam nodded in acknowledgement and let some of the tears fall down his bruised cheek. "But I don't want you to have to give this up because of me."

"Who says I have to?"

"You will! You know I can't stay here. After I get healed up I need to get back out there. I have to figure out what the hell is going on with Samuel and whatever brought me back! But I don't want you to come with me and give up everything because you think you have to help me!"

"Sam! Who says I can't have both? I already talked to Lisa." Sam looked back up at that. "You're staying here til you feel better whether you like it or not. Then, I'm going to head back out with you. You need someone to watch your back with Samuel out there doing God knows what. And I want to be back out there with you! Lisa knows that, and she understands, Sam. As long as I come home every once in awhile, she's fine."

"But, I thought she didn't want to date a hunter?"

"Well, she's put too much into this now. She's too damn stubborn to give up now." Dean smiled. "Besides, I think she kinda loves me…"

That managed to elicit a laugh from Sam.

"Shut up! I'll have you know I'm a very lovable guy!"

At the moment, Sam couldn't bring himself to argue that whatsoever.

"Here," Dean pushed Sam's plate back into his hands, "eat up. Then get some more sleep. You looked wiped man."

Sam nods before digging into his food. The exhaustion and the food weighed him down, but Sam barely noticed. The conversation with his brother had left him feeling lighter than he had in months.

SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN-SPN

The days went on in much of the same fashion. Sam lay sprawled on the couch during the day; at night, Dean helped to maneuver him into the guest bedroom to crash on the bed. Dean cooked meals and shoved them at his brother, complaining that Sam's Sasquatch ass had lost too much weight as it was.

On the second day, the snow had stopped enough for Dean to run out to Sam's car and gather up his stuff. As much as Sam loved Dean, he didn't think he could stand one more day in Dean's borrowed, and too short, sweats. The trunk took a lot of effort to get into, what with the ice sealing it shut. But once open, Dean found Sam's duffel, cell phone, and laptop bag safely tucked away there. He quickly took the items back to his brother. Sam fretted over the freezing cold laptop, pushing it as close to the fireplace as possible while silently praying that the computer gods would take mercy on him. Hours later, most of which the laptop had spent by the heat of the gas fire, Sam lay on the couch happily pecking away at the keys.

His cell phone had to be charged before the device would even turn on for him. When he finally got it back to working conditions, he found several voice mails and text messages…all of which were from Samuel.

"Just delete the damn things! Nothing he could say can make up for what he did!"

Sam agreed with Dean, but starting going through them nonetheless. "I know, Dean. But they might give me some clues as to what the hell he's doing. Could help us down the line." About half were messages filled with apologies and half assed remorse. A lot of them contained Samuel's ranting and screaming about everything he had done for Sam. But on the last one Sam was able to pick up some background voices coming through Samuel's cell. "Oh my God!" Sam quickly replayed the message.

"What?" Dean quit pacing and was now at his brother's side.

The message finished and anger played across Sam's face. "Damn him!" He gave Dean the phone. "Listen for the voice in the background."

Dean held the phone up to his ear and listened carefully. "Son of bitch! He's working with that prick!"

"Seems like it."

"But why would he be working with Crowley?"

"I don't know, Dean! But I guess we'll find out when we catch up to them."

"You bet your ass we will!"

Sam didn't see Dean much for the rest of the day. Dean spent it in the garage going through the Impala's arsenal, preparing for their departure.

The following afternoon, Sam was dozing on the couch when the sound of the front door opening woke him. His eyes still blurry from sleep could only just made out a fuzzy looking thing running down the hall. He tried to blink away the haze. When he succeeded, Sam opened his eyes to see a pretty woman leaning over him. He jumped at first, and then realized it was only Lisa.

"Hi," he mumbled sleepily.

Lisa sent him a sweet smile and gently brushed a few stray hairs away from his eyes. "Hey Sam! God, it's so good to see you."

"You too Lisa," Sam smiled. He was finally more awake than he had first been.

"No, Sam," Lisa said as she sat down on the couch. "You have no idea how good it is to see you. Dean was…let's just say having you gone took a lot out of him." Sam nodded sadly. "It was hard to see him have to going through it. So I'm really glad he has you back now." With that, Lisa threw her arms around Sam's neck, giving him a gently hug. Sam relaxed into the embrace easily.

"Thanks."

Lisa carefully pulled away and patted him on the shoulder. "So where's that brother of yours anyway?"

Sam was about to answer when Dean walked into the room with Ben on his back. "Hey!"

He helped Ben slide of from his back before going over to greet Lisa with a sweet and passionate kiss.

"Ewww!" Ben exclaimed causing Dean to continue to kiss Lisa and Sam to just laugh.

"You mean you're not used to my brother's disgustingness yet?" Sam joked.

Ben just laughed at Sam before launching himself at the young hunter. He wrapped his arms around Sam's neck, hugging him gently. After the initial shock, Sam returned the hug with just as much strength.

"Careful, Ben," Dean warned. "Sam is still pretty sore, bud."

Ben let go of Sam and looked back at Dean. "I'm just glad he's back. I know having him gone really sucked for you. And now you seem really happy."

A lump formed in both Dean and Sam's throats at Ben. Sam pulled the boy back in for a hug, and Dean ruffled his cropped hair.

"Why don't you go unpack sweetheart?" Lisa asked her son. "I need to talk to Dean and Sam for a minute."

"But I wanted to show them the awesome stuff Gran got me!" Ben put on his best puppy dog eyes and pouted.

"Ben," Lisa lightly scolded. "It's just for a few minutes then I'll send these two in to look at it all."

"Fine," Ben huffed, but still shuffled out of the living room towards his bedroom upstairs.

"So," Lisa turned towards the brothers, "what's the plan?"

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The Impala sat on the salted street in front of the house. The weapons had been cleaned and stored in the trunk. Two duffel bags had been tossed across the back seat. And the two brothers stood inside the house saying their goodbyes.

After two weeks, Sam finally felt well enough to start traveling and hunting down Samuel, Crowley, and any other son of a bitch along the way. Bruises and newly healed scars still marred his body, but his spirit felt better than it had in years. He smiled as his brother gave Ben a giant hug and whispered comforting words into the boy's ear. Ben had come to love having both Dean and Sam in the house. He finally got to see the real Dean now that Sam was back from the dead, and he loved it more than imaginable. Ben let go of Dean and walked over to Sam; he wrapped his arms around Sam's waist. Sam bent down and picked Ben up for a proper goodbye hug.

Dean felt tears well in his eyes at the sight; he never imagined being able to see Sam and Ben together. Lisa's arm around his waist brought him out of his musings. He could see the sadness in her eyes, but she did not cry. She smiled and pulled his chin down for a kiss. Passion and devotion practically emanated from her to Dean. Minutes later, they broke apart.

Dean cleared his throat of all emotions as best he could. He reached into his jacket for a handgun to give to Lisa. "Now I know you don't really love weapons, but I wanted to make sure you were safe. So…and it really isn't too hard to…"

Lisa smiled as she took the gun from Dean, stopping him midsentence. She proceeded to load and cock the gun swiftly as if she had had years of practice. Dean's eyes widened at his girlfriend. "What?" Lisa asked innocently.

"Where did you learn that?"

"I grew up with brothers and a father you know." Lisa clicked the safety back on before setting the gun to the side.

Dean realized that is was all happening…he was leaving to go back on the hunt and Lisa was staying here to hold down the fort with only a handgun and a few bags of salt. "Maybe I should stick around a few more days. Just to make sure you.."

His words ended when Lisa's lips smashed into his once again. "Go Dean." The blunt words were filled with love. "Ben and I will manage. Just make sure you get your ass back here in a couple of weeks or I just may shoot you myself."

Dean barked out a laugh as he pulled Lisa in for a final embrace. "You ready Sam?"

"I'm coming." He placed Ben back on the ground and ruffled his hair.

"You both better come back ok!" Ben yelled as they walked to the door.

"You bet your ass we will kiddo!" Dean yelled back.

With that the brothers walked out of the house and climbed into the Impala. Both sank into the familiar leather as the engine purred to life. Metallica blared from the speakers before Dean had the chance to reach the volume knob.

"You ready to do this?" Dean asked as he pulled away from the curb.

Sam glanced back at the house then took in the comfort and familiarity of the Impala. "Yeah. I'm ready." And he meant it. His brother sat beside him and the car underneath him as the highway blurred through the frosty windows. Sam was ready. He was more than ready…He was finally home.


End file.
